We had Not So Little Man's IEP meeting yesterday. Because he is in middle school this year they insist that he attend so that he can learn to advocate for himself.
Interestingly enough, he also got this lecture from the doctor this summer. Advocate for yourself, learn about autism, learn about your learning disabilities...
He did not want to. He has no interest. I am the Mom and he trusts me to make sure that his school is safe for him. But I insisted and yeseterday there we were.
Myself, my lovely son, my nephew, cuz the dang hubby forgot and did not show up to take the little monkey, Teacher, Vice Principal and LA Assistant. Thank fully I invited Not So Little Man's Language Pathologist/behaviour analyst with us.
20 minute slot. They had a flipchart that for the twenty minutes they went through. We were not given an opportunity to say very much.
Mrs T (our speech/behaviour lady) finally, 15 minutes in, asked how long they had known Not So Little Man.
The Child in question answered, "5 weeks, but really that is 4 days a week minus one holiday and one pro-D day so that is 18, but only for six hours each day, so that is 108 hours and that makes 4 and one half days. That is not accurate as some of these people have never met me"
I thanked tehm for the chart, I did actually learn a few things (He reads at 175 words per minute with 22 errors?? ). I insisted that another meeting be booked where myself and Mrs T could outline what WE knew was going to be needed to assist Not So Little Man this year.
Bless his 'sweet self' he looked at me and says "Did I suffer through this one only to have another one?"
Hugs and Laughter
Monday
I miss the quirks
I miss little man's childhood.
Little man is not so little anymore. At 12 years of age it is obvious he won't hit 6', but he is already as tall as I am.
If you are not looking closely as he walks towards you you would never know that 5 years ago he walked on his toes.
I miss the toe walking. Now he has a slight hunch when he walks, but that fits right in with the slouching so many of the preteens are doing.
Not so little man has worked hard on learning his "IBNice's" (this is what he calls social skills, lol). He now makes fleeting eye contance with cashiers and says thanks-without any comments about their appearance. I miss the holy hannah honest comments he'd blurt out, I miss the recitations of his favourite bits of information. I miss that naive little man that was so very honest.
Watching him with his peers, tapping his pencil against his leg I am grateful that he has less awkward stims. Yet, my heart hurts a little, remembering his toe rocking and circle pacing. His pet phrases that he would mutter-oblivious to the strange looks his muttering gathered from those about him.
Not So Little Man has been getting on the bus just fine, heading to the new school via the 35 minute bus ride wihtout a hitch. Although his new school found it neccessary to switch his classroom FIVE times ont he first day of school, the last switch taking him out of the only classroom where he had a buddy, Not So Little Man handled it all beautifully-saving his meltdown for home (and it was barely a meltdown). I feel bereft, uneeded and a bit lost. I miss him needing me.
Selfish thoughts, I know. Please do not think that I am not bursting at the seams with pride-I am thrilled that he is doing so well. A little surprised, but absolutely giddy. It is just that there is that little piece of my heart that is sad to see his childhood vanish into young adulthood. Sad that my role is not as integral as it once was, teary that so much time has gone by.
I am set adrift too. My routines over the last 12 years changed drastically over the last six months. My two youngest are becoming so very independant. My nephew coming to stay with us. New disabilities to deal with (nephew has a range of issues-none of which are autism) that I personally have found to be more trying than autism was for us.
I am working full time, the kiddies are gone from 8 until 430 (rural). Things have changed.
On top of all that change is watching my youngest, this Not So Little Man grow into himself with a confidence I had not expected from him.
Hugs, Teary Laughter and Sunshine Thoughts,
Angela
Little man is not so little anymore. At 12 years of age it is obvious he won't hit 6', but he is already as tall as I am.
If you are not looking closely as he walks towards you you would never know that 5 years ago he walked on his toes.
I miss the toe walking. Now he has a slight hunch when he walks, but that fits right in with the slouching so many of the preteens are doing.
Not so little man has worked hard on learning his "IBNice's" (this is what he calls social skills, lol). He now makes fleeting eye contance with cashiers and says thanks-without any comments about their appearance. I miss the holy hannah honest comments he'd blurt out, I miss the recitations of his favourite bits of information. I miss that naive little man that was so very honest.
Watching him with his peers, tapping his pencil against his leg I am grateful that he has less awkward stims. Yet, my heart hurts a little, remembering his toe rocking and circle pacing. His pet phrases that he would mutter-oblivious to the strange looks his muttering gathered from those about him.
Not So Little Man has been getting on the bus just fine, heading to the new school via the 35 minute bus ride wihtout a hitch. Although his new school found it neccessary to switch his classroom FIVE times ont he first day of school, the last switch taking him out of the only classroom where he had a buddy, Not So Little Man handled it all beautifully-saving his meltdown for home (and it was barely a meltdown). I feel bereft, uneeded and a bit lost. I miss him needing me.
Selfish thoughts, I know. Please do not think that I am not bursting at the seams with pride-I am thrilled that he is doing so well. A little surprised, but absolutely giddy. It is just that there is that little piece of my heart that is sad to see his childhood vanish into young adulthood. Sad that my role is not as integral as it once was, teary that so much time has gone by.
I am set adrift too. My routines over the last 12 years changed drastically over the last six months. My two youngest are becoming so very independant. My nephew coming to stay with us. New disabilities to deal with (nephew has a range of issues-none of which are autism) that I personally have found to be more trying than autism was for us.
I am working full time, the kiddies are gone from 8 until 430 (rural). Things have changed.
On top of all that change is watching my youngest, this Not So Little Man grow into himself with a confidence I had not expected from him.
Hugs, Teary Laughter and Sunshine Thoughts,
Angela
Friday
Mommy Thoughts
Being a mommy is such hard work sometimes but wow... It is a treasure too, isn't it?
It amazes me, as I sit here with one child 'all grown up' at 21 years old and my youngest being 12-plus having my nephew living with me since February, that each child has so much to offer.
Mr.AllGrownUp is a gentle rebel.
He, really, is the child that taught me to respect non conformance. He has never had that timid obedience to authority. He is the child that always questioned, demanded that one earned his respect before he gave it and had no problem with breaking the rules when he felt it was necessary. He felt it necessary in Kindergarten when he 'got in a fight' with another child. He told me and the principal that he did indeed understand that fighting is wrong but "That kid was pushing a girl off the play fort!"
He felt it was 'worth the consequences' in grade eleven when he got in between two girls that were fighting (one ended up in the hospital) and was suspended. (Zero tolerance policy).
He is also the child that taught me that not all boys think hitting is fun. He is the boy that walked away. That would protect himself, but chose to not hit back.
He taught me that parenting is a valuable skill. That i had to hone that skill, be flexible enough to learn new things fast but rigid enough to maintain some sort of order. He taught me, with his sticky hand in mine, that there was nothing more valuable that i could be doing. That being a mother was the most important thing I would ever do.
Ms Princess is fast becoming 'allgrowedup'. Being the only daughter, she and I have had some spectacular clashes yet I admire her beyond words.
She is the child that taught me just how important self acceptance and confidence is. She taught me to have patience for my own weaknesses, to not judge myself so harshly. She is very confident, close to being 'cocky'. She excels at everything she puts her hand to. She can draw, paint, play guitar, sing and write with skill and talent. She is the junior captain of the Wrestling team, performs in front of her peers without issue, plays sports and is an honour roll student.
Ms Princess is the child that taught me to see the world around me as beautiful, exciting and educational. From the time she could crawl she demonstrated how a drawer was actually a play area, rich with sound, texture and exploration possibilities. That flour was a medium for art, an ingredient for play, integral to science (inside joke, she dumped a huge pail of flour on little man's head). She was constantly 'getting into trouble'-destroying things, colouring on walls, emptying ketchup onto the flour-you name it. She just HAD to KNOW! To know what it felt like, looked like, tasted like and of course what it looked like on her younger brother's head.
She taught me that people go through phases. Princess has been the teacher's pet and the teachers arch nemesis. She has been the 'popular' child in class and the wall flower. She has been raucous and loud and ultra calm and quiet. She has been the burly and been the champion of the bullied. (I wonder if that is all part of her exploratory nature? )
My daughter, she taught me that I can be spitting mad and filled with love and tenderness all at the same time. That I can watch a physical sport like wrestling and have the urge to jump on the mat and help. She taught me be artistic, to create and be proud of my accomplishments.
Little Man is our child on the ASD spectrum.
He is the child that taught me that every dang child is completely unique. That experience can be a detriment when we use it to make assumptions. As the oldest of four children and having run daycare for ten years I went into my pregnancy with Little Man with confidence. From the moment of the first ultrasound he has been teaching me to leave room for differences, to not be rigid with over confidence.
He is the child that taught me to fight when I feel it is needed. That passive does not cut it. He taught me to stand up for what is right regardless of who disagreed (the whole dang family told me I was wrong, that I should not worry about him.)
He is the child that taught me that there is great joy in being an advocate. That labels are just words-needed to services but change nothing. He taught me that the things we fear are only scary if we refuse to learn about them.
Little Man taught me to be humble. His genuine honesty humbles me. His amazing ability humbles me. His sweet smile and quirky humor.
Little Man taught me that nothing is impossible.
I can't imagine my life being without my children-any of them. Their diverse personalities and their love of life has been the greatest gift I have ever received.
Hugs and laughter
It amazes me, as I sit here with one child 'all grown up' at 21 years old and my youngest being 12-plus having my nephew living with me since February, that each child has so much to offer.
Mr.AllGrownUp is a gentle rebel.
He, really, is the child that taught me to respect non conformance. He has never had that timid obedience to authority. He is the child that always questioned, demanded that one earned his respect before he gave it and had no problem with breaking the rules when he felt it was necessary. He felt it necessary in Kindergarten when he 'got in a fight' with another child. He told me and the principal that he did indeed understand that fighting is wrong but "That kid was pushing a girl off the play fort!"
He felt it was 'worth the consequences' in grade eleven when he got in between two girls that were fighting (one ended up in the hospital) and was suspended. (Zero tolerance policy).
He is also the child that taught me that not all boys think hitting is fun. He is the boy that walked away. That would protect himself, but chose to not hit back.
He taught me that parenting is a valuable skill. That i had to hone that skill, be flexible enough to learn new things fast but rigid enough to maintain some sort of order. He taught me, with his sticky hand in mine, that there was nothing more valuable that i could be doing. That being a mother was the most important thing I would ever do.
Ms Princess is fast becoming 'allgrowedup'. Being the only daughter, she and I have had some spectacular clashes yet I admire her beyond words.
She is the child that taught me just how important self acceptance and confidence is. She taught me to have patience for my own weaknesses, to not judge myself so harshly. She is very confident, close to being 'cocky'. She excels at everything she puts her hand to. She can draw, paint, play guitar, sing and write with skill and talent. She is the junior captain of the Wrestling team, performs in front of her peers without issue, plays sports and is an honour roll student.
Ms Princess is the child that taught me to see the world around me as beautiful, exciting and educational. From the time she could crawl she demonstrated how a drawer was actually a play area, rich with sound, texture and exploration possibilities. That flour was a medium for art, an ingredient for play, integral to science (inside joke, she dumped a huge pail of flour on little man's head). She was constantly 'getting into trouble'-destroying things, colouring on walls, emptying ketchup onto the flour-you name it. She just HAD to KNOW! To know what it felt like, looked like, tasted like and of course what it looked like on her younger brother's head.
She taught me that people go through phases. Princess has been the teacher's pet and the teachers arch nemesis. She has been the 'popular' child in class and the wall flower. She has been raucous and loud and ultra calm and quiet. She has been the burly and been the champion of the bullied. (I wonder if that is all part of her exploratory nature? )
My daughter, she taught me that I can be spitting mad and filled with love and tenderness all at the same time. That I can watch a physical sport like wrestling and have the urge to jump on the mat and help. She taught me be artistic, to create and be proud of my accomplishments.
Little Man is our child on the ASD spectrum.
He is the child that taught me that every dang child is completely unique. That experience can be a detriment when we use it to make assumptions. As the oldest of four children and having run daycare for ten years I went into my pregnancy with Little Man with confidence. From the moment of the first ultrasound he has been teaching me to leave room for differences, to not be rigid with over confidence.
He is the child that taught me to fight when I feel it is needed. That passive does not cut it. He taught me to stand up for what is right regardless of who disagreed (the whole dang family told me I was wrong, that I should not worry about him.)
He is the child that taught me that there is great joy in being an advocate. That labels are just words-needed to services but change nothing. He taught me that the things we fear are only scary if we refuse to learn about them.
Little Man taught me to be humble. His genuine honesty humbles me. His amazing ability humbles me. His sweet smile and quirky humor.
Little Man taught me that nothing is impossible.
I can't imagine my life being without my children-any of them. Their diverse personalities and their love of life has been the greatest gift I have ever received.
Hugs and laughter
Wednesday
Mothers who kill their children.... It is not about autism.
Disclaimer: Yes, I am opinionated. Deal with it.
Age of Ridiculous have a new post up concerning another child who was murdered by their parent.
The statistics do not work with this hew and outcry, however. According to this and the American Anthropological Association 200 American Mommies kill their children every damn year. Heck, in 1983 600 American children will murdered by their parents [Kaye, Neil; Neal M. Borenstein and Susan Donnelly (1990). "Families, murder, and insanity: a psychiatric review of paternal neonaticide". Journal of Forensic Sciences 35: 134.]
Why is it we are only hearing (or mostly hearing only) about autistic children being murdered?
Because it is more titilating to read. Partly because as parents of autistic children (or persons whom are autistic) we also have the word 'autism' flagged in google news.
Use your head KimS of AoA. It ain't about autism. It is about mental health of the parents. It is about evil. But it sure as hell is not the child's fault, nor the government's fault.
Not saying, either, that I don't believe that ALL parents need more help than what is readily available. I am sure that we all have had moments when some respite care would have been more than welcome.
But as adults who are responsible for our children it is OUR job to be aware of our own mental health. It is our job to reach out for help when we need it. To make sure that we are looking after our selves in order to be the best damn parent we can be.
Shame on Age of Assholes for implying (and at times outright saying) that the autistic child causes their parent to murder them. For saying that raising an autistic child is so bloody damn difficult that murder/suicide is a serious consideration.
For Shame...
Age of Ridiculous have a new post up concerning another child who was murdered by their parent.
"Four children with autism under the age of 21 have been murdered by their parents in a single summer. Two in Dallas, TX, one in The Bronx, NY, and now Christopher Melton of Howard County, Maryland. What more can I add? KS"The above quote is a beautiful example of how those AoA folks want everything negative to be about autism. Four children in North America, over three months, have been murdered this summer (allegedly) by their parents. AoA's KimS is certainly happy to demand the nation to see this as a national crisis. The general consensus among the loons over there is that these poor parents did not have enough support (what parent does?). That if only there were more supports in place for parents of autistic children then this would not happen!
The statistics do not work with this hew and outcry, however. According to this and the American Anthropological Association 200 American Mommies kill their children every damn year. Heck, in 1983 600 American children will murdered by their parents [Kaye, Neil; Neal M. Borenstein and Susan Donnelly (1990). "Families, murder, and insanity: a psychiatric review of paternal neonaticide". Journal of Forensic Sciences 35: 134.]
Why is it we are only hearing (or mostly hearing only) about autistic children being murdered?
Because it is more titilating to read. Partly because as parents of autistic children (or persons whom are autistic) we also have the word 'autism' flagged in google news.
Use your head KimS of AoA. It ain't about autism. It is about mental health of the parents. It is about evil. But it sure as hell is not the child's fault, nor the government's fault.
Not saying, either, that I don't believe that ALL parents need more help than what is readily available. I am sure that we all have had moments when some respite care would have been more than welcome.
But as adults who are responsible for our children it is OUR job to be aware of our own mental health. It is our job to reach out for help when we need it. To make sure that we are looking after our selves in order to be the best damn parent we can be.
Shame on Age of Assholes for implying (and at times outright saying) that the autistic child causes their parent to murder them. For saying that raising an autistic child is so bloody damn difficult that murder/suicide is a serious consideration.
For Shame...
Monday
New Rethinking Autism Video
Click Here to see the new video from www.rethinkingautism.com
Gee, guess Age of Idiots was wrong again! There ARE adults with Autism!!
Gee, guess Age of Idiots was wrong again! There ARE adults with Autism!!
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